


Night

by 9r7g5h



Category: Wreck-It Ralph (2012)
Genre: F/M, Fiction, General, Literature, Romance, Short Stories, prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 10:47:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2618978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9r7g5h/pseuds/9r7g5h
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the night before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night

**Author's Note:**

> A quick little something for all the Tamora/Brad shippers out there, combined with some musings on what happens during the twenty-four hours that arcade consoles need to be plugged in before you can play them. Short and a bit crappy, but I hope that you still gain some form of amusement out of it.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Wreck It Ralph. Disney does.

The night had finally turned calm, peaceful even. The last of the rogue cybugs had long since been destroyed by the night patrols, but still the calls and yells of the men as they cleaned up the land around their city had echoed throughout the barracks until just a few minutes ago. The clouds had even shifted slightly, giving him another look at the stars that had brought him _her._ Leaning against the side of the window, staring up at the darkened sky for one last time, Brad Scott was just waiting for tomorrow to come.

Tomorrow he would be getting married to the woman he loved, and tomorrow he would die.

"What are you still doing up, Scott?"

"Watching the stars," Brad said softly in reply as her arms wrapped around his waist from behind, her lips placing a quick kiss onto his shoulder before her cheek pressed against the small of his back. "Couldn't stop thinking about tomorrow long enough to sleep." Unfolding his arms, his pressed his hands against her own, one finger tracing the makeshift ring that he had fashioned out of native materials and given her. Smiling as she twisted her hand so that she could capture and interlock their fingers, Brad tightened his grip before speaking again, his thumb rubbing small circles into her skin as he did so. "What about you? What are you still doing awake? You know it's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding."

Even if it was just another scripted scene that the programmers had put in to make tomorrow even harder, he was glad for the company that it gave him. He would never admit it, but he was glad he wasn't alone.

"Couldn't sleep either," Tamora admitted as she shifted closer, a content sigh leaving her once she was pressed flush against him. Moving his free hand across her forearm, Brad frowned at just how cold she was, speaking of a longer time spent out of bed than the few minutes it would have taken her to travel from her room to his. "Thought I'd come over here, see if you were still awake." Here she paused to shrug against him, just like he had known she would. From the moment their console had been plugged in, from the moment he had woken up to stare at the monsters that had come from his hands, he had known every word that she was going to say that night. He had always known that their world was nothing more than a game, though he had been the only one. The others still didn't know, and wouldn't until after their pre-play set up was through. Until after tomorrow became nothing more than a memory.

Even with this knowledge, Brad still jumped as Tamora rose onto the tips on her toes, her lips brushing against his ear to make her reason for coming into his room known as her hands slowly began to wander south.

"Since we both are, I thought we could get a start on tomorrow night."

For a long moment, Brad was tempted to accept her offer, to give in to the insistent pecks she was leaving on his bare skin, her hands curling to drag her nails across his stomach as they waited for permission to continue. It went against everything written in the script he had been so careful to follow, but in at that moment he truly couldn't care. She was offering herself to him, and _Mod damn it_ he wanted her.

"You should really get some sleep, _Mrs. Scott,"_ Brad said teasingly as he turned to face her, his hands capturing her wrists before leaning in for a kiss. Smirking as she melted against him, her arms tugging out of his grip to wrap around his neck, he slowly began to walk them backwards, his knowledge of the room quickly finding them safely besides the bed. Pulling away just long enough to scoop her into his arms, he placed one final kiss into her lips before dropping her onto the mattress, laughing as she bounced on the springs before settling into a pout. Reaching up to pull down the still perfect covers for her, he pointed to the pillow that waited at the head of the bed. "Sleep, Tammy. You're going to need it for tomorrow. I'll come join you soon."

"You better," Tamora muttered after a moment as she finally relented and settled herself beneath the cloth, her arms wrapping around his pillow as her eyes finally began to close and he tucked them in around her. "I am _not_ getting married to a man who can't even keep his eyes open for his own wedding ceremony. Love you."

"Love you too, my dynamite gal."

Returning to his place by the window, Brad didn't even notice the movements below as the night shift changed, the exact same men doing the exact same things that they had done every night since they had first landed on their unnamed home. There would be no more cybug sightings tonight; just like it was programmed, the last of the ones that had escaped the beam earlier in the day had already been destroyed. All that remained were a bunch of eggs and the mythical queen, all of which sat high in the final floors of the beacon. Staring unseeingly through the window, Brad listened as Tamora's breathing slowed, her slight snore becoming audible as she finally slept.

Returning his gaze to the stars, Brad was grateful that she did, for the programmers had decided to be cruel, giving him the knowledge that, after tomorrow, it would be many years before she slept peacefully without nightmares of him again. Tomorrow he would be marrying the woman sleeping in his bed, and, tomorrow, she would be the one to kill him before he could say 'I do.'


End file.
